


two ghosts

by loeylane



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cold Weather, Drunk Dialing, Fights, Light Smut, M/M, POV Johnny, Phone Calls & Telephones, Slice of Life, Song: Two Ghosts (Harry Styles), Subways, broken relationship, first one in a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 11:58:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loeylane/pseuds/loeylane
Summary: same lips red, same eyes blue





	two ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> harry writes good songs for angst also where is hs2 ...
> 
> thank u honey for alway encouraging me to write ,,, ur the best

maybe he should have worn a thicker coat. his mother would have scolded him. hands digging deeper into his pockets grasping at any warmth there was in the denim. glancing up he saw the same people he passed on the streets. same courtesy smiles thrown his way briefly. windows ran together he wasn’t really in a hurry. but he looked like it. looked jostled, tips of his hair still damp from his gym rinse earlier. he looked into the shops he passed catching a glimpse of himself. eyes dark and empty bags hanging low beneath them like rotten apples. he turned quickly not liking the person he saw in the glass. 

why were there so many people out he wondered. it was eleven on a friday morning mid january. was it friday? he lost count of the days passing since the new year began. he tousled his hair as he reached the subway stairs feeling the strands of icicles on his head. 

he flowed down the stairs like molasses. pulling his wallet from his back pocket. digging through old receipts and polaroids for his metrocard. looking around as he did hearing the beeping and voices. commuters drifting past him like waves. he slipped through the turnstile with a click. 

his feet followed the familiar path same platform he always stood at. his muscles have memorized the dip of the tile every turn and twist of his path. he waited impatiently feet tapping against the gray tiles. clicking, clicking as the platform filled. the train filled quickly once it arrived bodies piling into the car. he ducked into a seat. his seat. it didn’t feel right to sit elsewhere. 

his head leaned against the window behind him. bouncing with the tracks the vibration jarring but it was almost calming at this point. the way the rickety glass window made his teeth chatter like a windup toy. he stared out the adjacent window. lights glinting in and out of his vision. 

spacing out he shut his eyes. listening for the fourth ding to bring him from the slumped position. his black haired boy filled his mind. radiant gummy smiles from months ago replaced with tight lipped conversations from across the kitchen table. lately they seem to be haunting one another. 

 

~

 

he could hear him get up. silent. no kiss on the forehead or fingers dancing on his scalp. no good morning sleepyhead. just witnessing him do his best to not wake the other. he wasn’t ever too good at that. 

floorboards deceived him as he tiptoed across the cold wood. sneaking to the bathroom for a morning shower. door squeaking shut behind him. then he heard the clamor of bottles all his facial cleansers and moisturizers toppling over. an audible shit from behind the door made him smirk from the bed. 

the water hissed on. calming sleepy boy from the sheets. the day was yet to brighten sky still filled with moon. black haired boy worked so early. he could picture him walking down the street in the dim morning light. scurrying to meet his train. he used to walk him to the station. 

he could hear his moans from the bathroom. pulling him from his daydreams. they used to do that together too. exploring in the early morning hours. just skimming the surface of one another before the day even began. sleepy boy missed his hands. listening more intently as the sounds came to a crest. listening for the sigh black haired boy always did. and like clockwork. 

his mind shifted to how black haired boy felt. how he curved and dipped. how his skin was soft, tanned, and decorated. the arch of his familiar lips. the way his back dipped into his hips. he missed him and he was just in the next room. if he would just get up. just break the silence. 

the squeak of the faucet ripped him from his thoughts. hearing him step from the tub if he listened hard enough he could hear the towel against that skin. he tightened his eyes attempting to rid his head of the feral thoughts that inhabited it. rubbing his eyes until he saw flashes. 

and suddenly the door was open. he dove deeper into the covers. hiding from the pitter patter of wet feet. letting the empty fluff drown him. he used to tease him for not drying off completely. leaving a trail of water behind him. but now they didn’t seem to have anything in common. 

they weren’t who they used to be. 

he watched him from across the room. sitting in their bed staring at his boyfriend. if they were even still together. he glided across the room water dripping onto his back as he searched for socks. pulling open drawers and digging through hampers. 

“top right shelf, i just washed.” brown eyes found his when the whisper left his chapped lips. 

“i knew that,” black haired boy said turning, opening the drawer grabbing his socks. he watched his partner sit on the edge of the cold sheets. back muscles moving beneath the skin as his put his socks on. was he always this thin?

did he have a new tattoo? or maybe it was two? his ribcage already littered with ink but his shoulder. had it gone unnoticed all these years together. the words on someone else’s skin that hurt him worse than a tattoo as he read them. 

“how can an angel break my heart?” 

he knew it wasn’t about him but somehow it seemed like it was. no. it couldn’t be. he was the one who called him an angel. not the other way around. maybe it was just something he liked. he tended to just get tattoos like that. he said “because it was pretty.” was that why he had barbed wire on his kneecaps and cherubs on his forearm.

“when did you- when’d you get that?” he sputtered out. why was it suddenly so hard to talk to someone he once found solace in. his head twisted around a curious look in the back of his eyes behind all the unhappiness. 

“oh, these,” he said hand lifting to his newest artwork. “i think like uh- few weeks, uh maybe a month. i dunno, why?” 

“just wondering. looks nice.” it was so short. like two strangers forced to make conversation out of respect. from the outside they didn’t seem like lovers. they used to keep their neighbors awake now their neighbors wondered if they moved out. 

he continued to watch in silence as light filled the room, the sun rising in the east. watch the way his silk shirt slipped over his shoulders and hung loosely on his thin frame. dark denim stretched over bony legs. the click of his belt buckle as he fastened it swiftly. 

sleepy boy checked the clock he was 5 minutes late. just as he turned back he saw him slide out the bedroom door. 

“i’ll see you when you get home, i love you,” he called out only to hear the apartment door slam. like a slap in the face. he sighed hitting his head against the wall behind him. 

 

~DING~   
first stop. 

 

moonlight bathed the kitchen. swallowing everything in its light. he sat at the kitchen table staring at his half empty glass. old coffee wasn’t his favorite but it was better than nothing. he waited on the turning of the door to perk his ears. but nothing came. 

another night of his lover sneaking in after hours. waiting until he has gone to bed to come home slip between the covers and leave too early. 

they had to talk about this. they weren’t talking. 

he missed him. they way he could hear his smile when he talked. how he blurted out sarcastic comments like it was second nature. 

he stood up chair legs dragging against the floor. he opened the fridge checking it for the fifth time. but still nothing. then the click. the turn of the knob. the familiar jingle of black haired boys keys. 

he stared as he came in the light from the fridge painting his cold features. he froze like a teenager who was caught sneaking back in after a night out. 

they were two ghosts haunting each other. 

“oh, i thought you went to bed sorry.” 

“it’s fine, i stayed up to talk to you.” he could she the fear in the other boys brown eyes. keys dropping onto the mantel. 

“i mean we don’t have much to talk about.” he fake laughed. “i’m just going to head to bed okay. goo-”

“goddamnit you’re so fucking stubborn you know that. we haven’t had a full fucking conversation in over a month. that’s not us. you know that. we talk. you and i. we used to talk. all the time right.” he moved towards him the fridge left open. black haired boy turned his face down. eyes staring at a certain intriguing part of the floor. 

“i just fucking miss you. be honest with me okay. don’t string this shit out. we’ve been together for too long to just pretend.” he paused. catching his breath face flushed. he wasn’t angry more so frustrated. “look at me please. what is this? what are we doing now?”

“i - i don’t know okay,” black haired boy rasped. “i don’t know what i’m doing and i’m sorry. everything just feels so, so different. i miss you. but there’s so many things i want to do.”

“find out what you’re doing. i don’t want to hold you back. i love you too much to keep you tethered.” he said. slipping past him shoulders touching. grabbing his keys he left sliding out the door. 

he stood their leaning against the heavy wood. head resting as tears rolled down his face. why would he cry about a boy. some dumb boy he was in love with. 

 

~DING~  
second stop 

 

his phone buzzed. the familiar photo flashing across the screen with his name. he wouldn’t pick up he wouldn’t do it. but what if it was important. what if there was a robber or a cockroach in the shower. 

lifting it to his ear on the final ring. rolling over on the now familiar leather coach. 

“hello?” all he heard was background noise. it sounded like a tv show or music. 

“hello?” he repeated rolling his eyes. 

“oh hey, i didn’t think you’d answer.” the other line giggled. 

“well here i am. what do you need?” 

“i dunno just your voice. it’s nice you know.” his voice was melodic. even though he could tell he was drunk. 

“i don’t know but thank you.” he heard that familiar giggle. the way it danced and lingered in the air. 

“it is, j~. your voice is like if butter could talk. like land o’lakes but talking. it’s rich and creamy but kinda you know salty and good for most everything.” 

“is this your way of complimenting me?” 

“unhuh,” laughter followed. making the boy smile into his phone. 

“well thank you very much.” 

“i miss you. did you know that?” his boyfriend spoke into the line. 

“i didn’t know that, but i miss you too.” 

“well, come back, please. j, come home,” he whispered. he somehow became vulnerable in the drunken state he was in. 

“i don’t know. we need to talk. like talk, talk both of us conversing.” 

“i will, pinky promise, jay, just come home please.” 

“give me some time okay.” 

“let me know, i’ll be at the door.”  
he suddenly remembered the feeling of his heart in his chest. beating to the sound of his lovers laughter. 

 

~

 

he could feel the 3rd stop getting close. opening his eyes prematurely. squinting as his eyes adjusted to the fluorescents of the subway car. he saw the lights of the station flicker into the windows. 

seeing a familiar head amongst the bodies lining the platform. confusion struck him. the train pulsed to a stop. 

 

~DING~   
3rd stop

 

the bony black haired boy slinked into the seat next to him. waiting beside him. nothing needed to be said. they knew what each other meant. the train started once more. 

his head drifted from the bouncing window behind him onto the familiar dip of a shoulder. the warmth welcoming in the cold january weather.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/silkysuh)
> 
> [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/silkysuh)


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